


Ready When You Are

by TippyTypewriter



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Fluff, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 03:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4650873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TippyTypewriter/pseuds/TippyTypewriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But she's also endeared to Chloe's confidence--and more so to the little nervous glances she catches when Chloe thinks she isn't looking--so she follows her anyway.</p><p>---</p><p>Or: "the one where Max always lived in Seattle and Chloe is a carny and they engage in summer romance."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ready When You Are

**Author's Note:**

> Here we are again. I started thinking about this fic a few weeks ago, but it was after episode four that I really needed to write some fluff. For healing. As such, this is a completely self-indulgent meet-cute AU made of 100% pure gay fluff. Hope y'all enjoy.
> 
> Also, make sure to go give some love to my betas, who have my infinite thanks: [Briana](http://explosionshark.tumblr.com/tagged/explosionfic) and [Haaku](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thehaakun/).

Max comes through the gate well after Kristen and Fernando, who are both pulling faces at her and both wearing wristbands that mark them eligible for unlimited rides.  They’d purchased passes in advance, leaving Max waiting to pay for admission behind a woman herding a brood of children large enough for their own reality show.  She emerges looking apprehensive.

“Serves you right,” says Fernando, and Max can barely hear him but she can feel his hand on her wrist as he pulls her through the crowd and into line with he and Kristen.

Max rolls her eyes but she’s grinning again already.  “I’m just here for the photo ops.  And deep-fried everything on a stick.  Don’t blame me for being fiscally responsible.”

This earns a good-natured kick in the shin from Kristen.  Max retaliates with a punch to the shoulder, and it’s back and forth in this way that they make their way to the ticket booth where they get a map and, yeah, Max buys ten dollars’ worth of tickets.  She doesn’t think she’ll want to spend hours riding rides, because she’s not six anymore, but she’s not _entirely_ heartless.

After that they get snow cones and walk around for a while.  Their little group has what seems like a lot of catching up to do, having been separated for a couple of weeks: Kristen’s family had gone to Europe, Fernando to band camp, and Max had thrown herself into a summer photography class.

It’s somewhere over a half hour later that the park starts filling up.  Kristen’s running out of anecdotes on museums and gelato, Max has shown off all the new pictures she’s got in her camera bag, and there are only so many _American Pie_ jokes to be made at Fernando’s expense, so one of them--nobody remembers who, in the end--suggests they trash what’s left of their melted snow cones and go on the first ride of the day.

“Gravitron?” Max offers.  She knows they’re calling it the _Alien Abduction_ or _Starship 4000_ or something now, but her memories tell her otherwise, and the old name is less of a mouthful anyway.

Kristen and Fernando know, and they echo in the affirmative: “Gravitron.”

Ten bucks only got Max eleven tickets, and when they arrive they find out that the ride costs six, which gives her a moment of pause.  But then she hears shouting from inside, remembers the rush of the spinning lights, the feeling of getting a workout just from laughing, and decides it’s worth it to start the day on a good note.

They’re late in line when their turn comes, and inside Max has to find her own slider separate from her friends.  It’s fine by her.  She can tune out the ride operator’s rules, a feminine voice like a bored teenager ready to crack a joke in class telling them where to keep their arms and legs and what to do with their loose articles, and reflect on how it probably _was_ going to be a fun day.  One last chance to goof off before they’ve _really_ got to grow up and start worrying about things like college applications.

“That means you, hippie.”

Max starts and looks up, finding piercing blue eyes staring her down.  The blue hair and totally non-regulation beanie throw her at first, but the lanky girl in front of her is wearing a bright red shirt that proves she’s fairground staff.  Max blinks at her.  “Sorry?”

The girl breathes a little puff of laughter.  “Your bag,” she says, and holds out an expectant hand.  “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna steal your shit.  Just gotta make sure nothing gets broken.  Such is the law here in outer space.”

“Oh.  Of course.”  Max can feel her ears burning.  The gentle teasing and other riders now looking at her _would_ have her blushing.  She hands off her camera bag as quickly as she can, and thankfully no more words are exchanged before it’s dangling from the metal bar surrounding the ride’s control panel.

Another thirty seconds and they’re spinning.  Pinned to the wall, Max laughs and hollers along with everybody else.  There’s a punk song playing, all fast drums and loud guitars, and she appreciates the choice.  It feels more appropriate for a thrill ride than top forty pop and gangsta rap do.

When it’s over and Max goes to collect her camera and rejoin Kristen and Fernando, those blue eyes catch hers again.  “Not a scratch,” the ride operator says, like it’s some inside joke, and winks.  
  
Max just smiles a meek smile.  Stepping into the sunlight once again with her friends, she definitely feels dizzy.

And they’re both left confused in her wake when she takes off for the ticket booth to buy a wristband, fiscal responsibility be damned.

* * *

It’s their fourth or fifth time waiting in line for the Gravitron in what Max estimates to be about an hour and a half, and she can hear Kristen and Fernando whispering behind her.  They’ve probably finally figured out her motivations for buying unlimited rides.

She doesn’t have much time to think about it before she proves them completely right, because they reach the front of the line.  The ride operator only checks Max’s wristband at first, but then she looks up and when she recognizes her, she brightens immediately.  “We gotta stop meeting like this,” she says, shooing her in.

It’s not much, maybe even a little lame if it weren’t presented with such confidence, but it’s enough to have Max wearing a shit-eating grin as she enters and hangs her camera bag up again.

Fernando and Kristen get spots right next to her this time, and the ride proceeds as normal: safety instructions, chattering, a brief silence as the lights go down, and then it’s all neon spinning to a punk song.

The first unusual thing Max notices is that the girl controlling it all is bopping around a lot more energetically than normal in the centre console.  So she listens a little closer, and while the tone of the song hasn’t shifted much from the typical selections, its lyrics are, well, damned cute.  Max hears some stuff about late valentines, bouquets of roses given to someone who’s allergic, botched serenades, but then her mind sort of goes blank for a moment.

Because there are blue eyes directly on hers again, and the ride operator is mouthing the words of the song--”I just might be the fool you need”-- _directly at her_ , and very deliberately slipping a folded piece of paper into Max’s camera bag.

Max is sure she’s beet red.  She can see Fernando and Kristen look at each other, then at her, and when the ride is over she leaves in a hurry, opening the side pocket of her bag to get to the paper.

Kristen snatches it out of her hands before she can unfold it.

“Hey!” Max shouts, and tries to take it back, but Kristen’s arms are longer than hers.  She knows when she’s beat.  Max takes a seat on the bench they’re standing near, glares at Fernando when he laughs, and waits.

Kristen unfolds the paper.  It’s actually a pamphlet detailing some of the fair’s shows scheduled for the day, but there’s writing scrawled on the back in permanent marker.  Kristen reads it to herself first, grins and waggles her eyebrows

Max lunges forward again, but gets pushed back.  “Chill, chill,” Kristen says, laughing, and then clears her throat to read.  “‘I’m Chloe.  I get off at five.  Meet me?’”

Instantly Fernando pipes up.  “Hey, Max, she wants you to be there when she gets off.”

Kristen delivers a swift punch to his shoulder, hard enough that he’s left sulking and rubbing it afterward, and then turns her attention back to Max.  “Well, are you gonna go?  You should go,” she says, matter-of-factly.  “That girl was _super_ cute.”

“You’re kidding,” Max says, finally taking the note for herself.  But when she looks at it the words are there as Kristen read them, in stark black and white.  She’s _definitely_ beet red if she wasn’t before, and it takes her a few moments to formulate a response.  “... I don’t wanna ditch you guys,” she says, finally.

“We can hang out anytime,” Fernando supplies, still rubbing his arm.

“Yeah,” Kristen says, “and you don’t know if she’s working the rest of the fair, or when.  You should totally go.”

Max mulls it over, and finally she nods, looking up at Kristen.  “Will you help me fix my make-up?  I’m all sweaty.”

Kristen giggles.  “Of course I will.  But it’s only, like, three.  Let’s go ride something that’s _not_ the Gravitron first.”

* * *

At 5:04 p.m., Max is finally approaching the Gravitron again. She's irrationally worried about it, used to being on time if not early, but that's what she gets for asking Kristen to help with her make-up. Raccoon chic was not the look Max was going for; in the end she had to wash her face in a grimey fairground bathroom and redo it all herself. But here she is, fresh-faced.

And there Chloe is.

Max sees her first, because Chloe's looking at the ground, smoking. She's wearing the same jeans and boots and beanie as before, only now she's got a blazer over her uniform polo.

The effect is so effortlessly cool that for a moment Max considers turning tail. She's just some nerd with a camera and this girl is clearly out of her league and--

Chloe looks up, searching, and when her eyes catch Max's they go wide. She stubs her cigarette out under her boot, and rubbing the back of her neck she's the one to finally close the distance.  "Hey," she says. "Sorry, I--smoke break. Thought I had time."

Max just smiles, happy that she's not the only one feeling bashful.  Charmed, even. "You're fine. You probably needed it, dealing with screaming kids all day. How was the rest of your shift?"

"Not bad. Definitely enjoyed the first half of it more."  Chloe doesn't leave any time for the indirect compliment to sink in.  "But I could eat a horse, and I don't mean from the pony ride.  Like, a huge one.  Wanna grab a bite?"

"I could eat," Max says, and then they're walking. There's a kiosk nearby selling all manner of deep fried fare, so she heads there instinctively, but as they approach she notices that the mustachioed man inside is scowling and posturing protectively over his funnel cakes.

Before she can comment, Chloe is sliding an arm around her shoulder and steering them away.  "Don't wanna eat there.  _Totally_ got busted for serving a corn dog with a roach in it last year," Chloe says, a little too fast.  "Let's find somewhere else."  A beat.  "By the way, what's your name?"

Max, incredulous, tells her.  She's not a little confused.  The kiosk looks really pretty clean despite its ill-disposed proprietor.  But she's also endeared to Chloe's confidence--and more so to the little nervous glances she catches when Chloe thinks she isn't looking--so she follows her anyway.

They make small talk as they walk, trading stories of the day (including one untimely one about a little kid getting so dizzy he vomited cotton candy on another kid).  Three more times they approach a food vendor with a hostile-looking operator.  Three more times Chloe makes an excuse to move on, each more ridiculous than the last.

Each time Max grows more amused, suspecting that _maybe_ it's just that these guys don't appreciate their coworker and her horse-sized appetite, but she manages not to laugh.  Except when Chloe tells her that this one nacho peddler in particular doesn't deserve their business because he once sought melted cheese in lieu of a good woman.

At last, nearly halfway across the park, they come to a cart selling pizza by the slice, and the skinny teenager behind the counter looks bored but he isn't giving them the stink-eye.

Chloe pulls her wallet from a pocket inside her blazer and leans in toward Max as they get in line.  “What’s your poison?  I’m buying.  For all the walking and indecision,” she says, nodding a little.

Max’s instinct is to protest, but Chloe looks insistent, so she doesn’t.  “Just cheese, please.”

Chloe’s mouth actually falls open, slack in surprise.  “Jus--” she starts, then gives her head a shake, starts again.  “Just cheese.  Okay.  Just cheese it is.”

Max doesn’t have quite as much self-control when they reach the window and Chloe orders a slice of cheese and a slice of some abomination with everything on it, and extra pineapple.  “Pineapple?” Max asks, playing at abject horror.  “And you’re shaking your head at _me_.”

“Hey!  I like the taste.  And it has more than one use,” Chloe adds, voice dipping ever so slightly.  She grins a cocky grin and walks backwards from Max toward the picnicking area.

Instantly Max is blushing, her reaction time lagging by a few seconds, and it takes her a moment to regain her composure and follow her companion.  _Don’t try to out-snark Chloe.  Got it._

The picnic tables are all full, so they take to a nearby patch of grass, sitting cross-legged across from each other.  Max, still flustered, starts in on her pizza straightaway, balancing the oversized slice on both hands.

“So, thanks for meeting me.  I didn’t know if you’d show,” Chloe says, dipping to catch a wayward string of cheese in her mouth.

“Of course.  You’re--”  _The coolest person I've met in years,_ Max thinks, but she starts again and just says, “You played really good music.”  She can’t fit her foot in her mouth, but pizza does the trick.

Chloe doesn’t seem bothered, just pleased with herself.  “I aim to please.  I’ve got a rep to maintain, you know.  You like punk?”

“I mostly listen to acoustic stuff, but it was nice.  Fit the mood of the day a lot better than most of the other music I heard playing today.  What was that last song?”

“‘Fool’by All.  And yes, that was _totally_ me seducing you.”

Max just about chokes on her food.

“Whoa, relax!”  Chloe leans forward, ready to help, but sits back when she sees that Max has it under control.  “I’m trying to flirt with you, not kill you.  Don’t die, okay?”

Max nods and takes another bite, chewing more carefully.

“Okay,” Chloe confirms, and continues.  “I, uh, don’t know many people here, you know?  Traveling pop-up type of thing.”  She gestures at the fairground around them to emphasize her point.  “And I don’t usually get to, like, take in the atmosphere as a customer.  And then I kept seeing you, and you’re hella cute, so I figured...why not make a date out of it?”

Max is still blushing, but she’s smiling now too.  _She thinks she has to explain herself.  Adorable._ “Well, I’m free all evening.”

“Then it’s a date.”

* * *

"One more try for the lady?  Just three bucks!"  Unlike so many food vendors, the man running the 'shoot the star' game has absolutely no problem taking Chloe's money.

But Max does. She touches Chloe's arm to get her attention.  "Chloe, don't. You've already spent like sixty dollars.  It's the thought that counts, I don't need--"

"No, Max," Chloe says, doing a little shimmy as she digs in her pants pocket for more change.  "I'm doing this now."

Max, resigned, watches Chloe nod to the guy and slide over her dollars and take up the BB gun again.  Before this she'd tried basketball, knocking over milk jugs, and balloon darts, all to no avail.  After finishing their food, she'd decided that she was going to win Max a prize.

Apparently that was what made for a good carnival date, but seeing Chloe run out of BBs yet again--most of the red paper star still intact--Max has her doubts.  It's very sweet, of course, but very expensive.

Thankfully Chloe refuses another turn at shooting, cursing under her breath.  But then she's turning, looking around for the next thing. When she takes Max's hand and leads her away, it's to the water gun races.

There's a little bit of competition in the form of a pubescent boy, a man in a cowboy hat, and a little girl whose seat is bigger than she is.  Chloe, for her part, is taking it all very seriously: after she pays the kid running the game, she leans hard over the counter and aims her gun at the target well before it's time to shoot.

Max wishes her good luck, but in the clearly overwhelming heat of the moment, Chloe brushes her off to better focus on the task at hand.

And it pays off.  The little girl gives her a run for her money, the water levels in the spires before them rising at a dangerously similar rate, but in the end when a flashing alarm goes off it's above Chloe's head.

"I won?"  Chloe looks up, eyebrows raised, and then all at once leaps out of her seat and pumps her fist.  "I _hella_ won!  _Hell_ yeah!  Gimme my prize, water boy!"

Max smiles fondly at all the grandstanding.  Ridiculous, but pretty cute, and it doesn't last nearly long enough.

From his station above them the "water boy" hands Chloe her prize: a plush hot dog with arms and legs, wearing a cartoon grin and a single strip of mustard.

Chloe's face falls.  Max can almost see the internal struggle, whether or not to throw the toy back in outrage at having wasted so much time and money and _effort_ on acquiring an anthropomorphic hot dog, and not even a large one.

Eventually Chloe does turn around, brandishing the hot dog man.  "Uh, here," she says.  She tries to force a grin, but it comes out lopsided and uneasy.

Max takes it as her cue to shower her date in appreciation.  Her own smile, at least, is genuine.  "Aw, the best hot dog ever," she says, taking the plushie into her own hands.  "Thank you. I'll treasure him for always!"

Chloe doesn't look convinced.  In fact, she's staring at the ground.

Cause for extreme measures, Max thinks.  She rushes forward and brings her lips to Chloe's cheek, a wet little smack of a kiss, and then retreats, holding the hot dog man close.

It works.  Chloe has the same look on her face, at first, as when she won a game in the first place, only now she's blushing too.  It doesn't take long for her to feel confident enough to take Max's hand and start walking again.  "You're welcome," she says, soft.

When they pass the shooting range again, Max has an idea.  She hands her hard-won gift over to Chloe again for safekeeping, and then pays for a turn of her own.

"The trick," she says as Chloe draws in behind her, confused, "is to shoot _around_ the star."

Max succeeds in her quest, a circle of paper falling away from the square and taking the little red star with it.  Then she does it twice more.

She trades in her first two prizes and ends up with a teddy bear several times the size of the hot dog man.  It's wearing a tricorne hat and an eyepatch.  She offers it to Chloe.  "Trade you."

Chloe does, fumbling a bit with the transaction because she's staring.  "I should be mad, but that was...kinda hot, Max."

"Just getting you the prize you deserve."  Max grins, and as they walk she holds Chloe's hand in one of hers and her plush hot dog in the other.

* * *

 It takes some smooth talking, but Chloe manages to wrangle a free wristband through her ride operator status, and after that she drags Max all over the park from ride to ride.

On the Gravitron they whisper to each other about how lame the other operator's music taste is.

On the Tilt-A-Whirl there's a lot of giggling, punctuated by breathless silences when the swinging of the ride inevitably has them crashing into each other.

Walking through one of the several funhouses, Chloe follows Max.  Half the time she swings her hips and half the time she's on her knees; one hundred percent of the time she's pretending she's Danny Zuko.

On the roller coaster, they make sure the bear and the hot dog are safely secured so they can throw their hands in the air and scream with everyone else.  Max makes a joke about the stuffed toys being their kids and is infinitely grateful when the ride operator interrupts to check their lap bars.

Eventually they hit the line for the Mega Drop.  The sun is setting, and Max looks wide-eyed up at the many-coloured lights, vivid against the darkening sky.

Chloe must mistake her awe for fear, because she comes in close and squeezes Max’s hand.  “This ride’s not so scary,” she says, bending her head so she’s easier to hear.  “I’ll totally protect you.”

The corner of Max’s mouth twists.  She’s not really scared.  She loves heights, the fresh perspectives that a bird’s-eye view affords.  But she looks up at Chloe, who’s all concern and open smiles, and she’s compelled to lean her forehead against Chloe’s shoulder and squeeze her hand back anyway.  “Promise?”

“Scout’s honour.  I was never a girl scout, but still.”  Chloe playfully shoves Max away when she chuckles, but brings her back in immediately for a hug, and that’s how they wait: too wrapped up in each other to pay attention to anyone else in line.

They’re both in pretty good spirits by the time they’re buckled in, but their hands are still interlocked under the pretense of safety.  Max is happy to take it for what it is, but when their feet are dangling in the air and the people below them start to get smaller, she can feel Chloe’s palm getting clammy in her hand.  Max offers a comforting smile and gets an uneasy one back.

And then Chloe’s talking.  “The weather’s nice up here,” she says, her voice an octave higher than usual.  “Like, cold as balls, yeah, but you can see--the clouds are really close.  Really pretty.”

Max nods, encouraging, but Chloe isn’t even looking at her.

“But we’re not even _that_ high,” Chloe continues.  “Height-wise, not, like, on drugs.  Not that I would know, uh, I’m not--”  And then the talking stops because they’re plummeting toward the ground and she’s screaming instead.  She doesn’t _stop_ screaming for most of the ride.

On the ground, Chloe’s shaky on her feet.  Max retrieves their stuffed toys from the Mega Drop platform where they’d left them for safekeeping.  “You were really brave,” she tells Chloe as she hands off the bear.

“Shut up.”

“No, honestly.  Pretending to be all scared so I wouldn’t feel bad.”

Chloe’s holding the bear very close to her chest.

“You made me feel very safe,” Max finishes.

Chloe finally looks up at her.  “I told you it wasn’t very scary.”

* * *

 The sun is long set and the whole world, for Max sitting alone on a bench near the giant Ferris wheel, is neon.

She’s not really alone, of course.  She’s got her phone and, more importantly, Chloe’s only a short way away, up on the Ferris wheel platform.  Max can see her clenching and unclenching her fists, arguing with the ride’s operator.

Max’s phone buzzes, tearing her gaze away.  It’s Kristen, texting her to ask how it’s going with “the hot punk.”  It takes Max a while to formulate the answer in her head, but instantly she’s grinning, just thinking about it.  How serendipitous it all is, how hard Chloe tries to impress her even though Max is impressed enough just _looking_ at her…

Ultimately, she only types back that it’s going great and they’ll talk more later.

The timing works out.  As soon as Max’s phone is back in her pocket, Chloe is stomping down the metal steps toward her, muttering angrily under her breath.  She’s trying to keep it in, but she sounds tense when she says, “Jackass won’t let us on for the fireworks.”

Max stands to greet her.  “That’s okay.  We can just watch from the ground.”

Chloe shakes her head, sucks her teeth, looking far away over the grounds.  Max is trying to figure out a way to calm her down when she feels a hand tighten around her wrist.

“C’mon, Mad Max,” Chloe says, suddenly turning, tugging on Max’s arm.  “I’ve got an idea.”

She has no idea what she’s in for, but Max can’t think of a place she wouldn’t follow Chloe to, so she goes willingly, responding with only a bewildered chuckle.

They half-jog, half-power walk through the fairground.  Max apologizes breathlessly to the people that Chloe shoves aside on her mission.  When they finally stop, it’s at the foot of an arching sign reading _Kiddieville._

Max takes a moment to catch her breath, but when she realizes where they are she’s confused.  “Huh?  The kids’ rides are closed this time of night.”

“So we’ll have more privacy.”  Chloe’s already squatting down to creep under the chain barring the entrance.

Max isn’t so sure, worrying her lip, but she’s gone this far and then Chloe is waving her over from the other side.  She’s not going to stop now.

Chloe moves fast and easy through the shadows of giant teacups, floating rubber ducks, a life-sized cartoon tugboat.  Max lags behind because she’s stricken by the change in atmosphere.  She can still see kaleidoscopic lights in the distance, still hear faint shrieks from the thrill rides, but here it’s dark and still.  It might have been spooky alone, surrounded by so many inanimate things that were usually moving, but with Chloe leading the way she feels at peace.

When Max catches up, Chloe is halfway up the stairs to the giant slides, and when Max reaches the top, Chloe’s already laid out a burlap sack and she’s sitting on it, facing out, holding her bear in her lap.

Max carefully sits behind her, stretching her legs out around her, and they’re not quite touching but her breath catches in her chest anyway.  The way the lights of the midway bounce off Chloe’s pale skin, the electric blue of her hair…  “Beautiful,” Max whispers.

Chloe turns her head a little, eyes crinkling.  “Yeah, it is.”

Max doesn’t bother to correct her.  She just sort of keeps staring until she realizes that she should talk.  “Did you have fun today?”

There’s no answer for a few seconds, and Max worries that she’s said something wrong, but she can’t think of what.  Then Chloe turns around all the way, on her knees, supporting herself on her knuckles on either side of Max’s thighs.

Max sees a flash of those blue eyes and then Chloe’s lips are on hers.  It’s a kiss that’s open-mouthed but gentle, exhilarating but curiously familiar, the taste of cigarettes tempered by blue raspberry slushie.  The first firework goes off overhead and surely, surely Max feels another go off in her chest.

Chloe sits back on her haunches, eyes half-lidded, grinning a lazy crooked grin.  She looks like she’s about to say something, but then her mouth falls open and her eyes go wide as she realizes that she’s unbalanced their precarious seat atop the slide.

The burlap sack begins to slip underneath them.  Chloe surges forward laughing, wrapping her up in her arms, and the last thing Max thinks before she stops thinking entirely is that she’s falling.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope nobody has diabetes now. Please leave me some feedback, 'cause it gives me life, and totally hit up [my Tumblr](http://holdsteady.tumblr.com/) if you have any questions, comments, or you just wanna scream at me about Pricefield.


End file.
